


The Tell-Tale Camera

by citrinesunset



Category: White Collar
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Discipline, M/M, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:18:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5667466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal is forced to stand corner time after a spanking from Peter. When Peter leaves him unattended, the temptation to disobey is too strong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tell-Tale Camera

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Fandom Stocking, for cookielaura.

It only took Neal five minutes to decide that there was nothing more boring than standing in the corner. Incredibly, it was even worse than getting spanked.

The worst part was Peter wasn't even there. After the spanking, he'd told Neal to stand in the corner with his pants and underwear around his knees. And then he'd left, telling Neal that he'd be back in an hour.

It was ridiculous, because of course Neal wasn't going to lament what he'd done. He considered all of this to be for Peter's benefit. The only reason he let Peter spank him was because it gave Peter the illusion of having some authority.

It would have been just like Peter to say he was leaving for an hour only to pop back early to catch Neal out of the corner. But as the minutes ticked by, it didn't look like he was going to. Mercifully, he'd locked the door behind him, assuring that Neal wouldn't be walked in on by Mozzie, June, June's maid, or whoever else happened to be by. So when he did return, the sound of the key in the lock would give Neal some warning.

Leaving the corner, then, was a no brainer. Neal pulled up his pants, wincing a little when the elastic of his briefs dragged across his sore skin. Peter had used the lightweight wooden paddle that slapped painfully against his skin. Neal hadn't been spanked in two months, and he'd almost forgotten how much it could hurt.

But it still wasn't as bad as standing in the corner. A spanking might leave him sore for a couple hours, but five minutes in the corner had felt like thirty.

He didn't feel guilty for moving. He didn't feel particularly guilty about what he'd done to earn a spanking, either. Oh, he understood why Peter was upset. And he'd known what he was in for if he got caught. But some things were worth the risk. "Borrowing" a Ferrari that the FBI had confiscated from smuggling kingpin so that he could take a quick joyride was well worth it.

It wasn't like he'd done any harm.

He was out of the corner, now, but faced a troubling prospect. He couldn't exactly busy himself with much, because he would have to go back in the corner as soon as he heard Peter. He couldn't even risk buttoning his pants.

Neal decided to get a drink of water. He held up his pants with one hand as he walked toward the kitchen.

One of the cupboard doors was ajar. Neal was about to close it when he noticed something sitting just inside the cupboard. 

It was a camera. Specifically, it was one of the small surveillance cameras that the FBI sometimes used. And it was pointed at the corner Neal had just vacated.

For a long moment, Neal stared into the unmerciful lens. After he got over the indignation, his mind starting whirring with thoughts of how he could fix this. And he couldn't think of a single thing that would work. If he sabotaged the camera, he would be Peter's first suspect.

Maybe he could just tell Peter that he was extremely thirsty and couldn't wait any longer. Peter couldn't punish him for that.

He shuffled back to the corner, considerably less bored, now.

Neal was almost a little surprised when, only a few minutes before the hour was up, he heard a sound by the door. 

"Good to see you where I left you," Peter said as he came in.

Neal looked over his shoulder. "Where were you?"

"Picking up some groceries," Peter said. "El is making those Cornish hens tonight, and she wanted me to pick up some squash to go with it."

"Sounds delicious. Am I invited?"

"She did ask me to extend the invitation. Do you think you've learned your lesson?"

Neal felt a pang of guilt. Peter was being so friendly.

"Would you believe me if I said I have?"

Wordlessly, Peter turned and walked toward the kitchen. He opened the cupboard and picked up the camera.

"We'll find out, I guess."

Neal blinked, feigning surprise. He turned around, covering himself with his hands.

"You put a hidden camera in here to spy on me?" He tried to sound insulted.

"Let's just call it insurance."

"Can we call it entrapment?"

Peter snorted. "Entrapment would be trying to tempt you to leave the corner. This—" he held up the camera "—is what you get when you have to be watched all the time."

Peter studied him with piercing eyes. Neal knew this look. It was like Peter had x-ray vision for guilt.

"Well, Neal, should I go ahead and review the footage, or do you have anything you'd like to tell me?"

"Okay, I may have stepped away from the corner for a minute. I was thirsty."

"Could you have waited?"

Neal couldn't bring himself to lie. "Yeah. But Peter, you have no idea how boring it was standing there."

"It's supposed to be boring. You're supposed to think about what you've done." Peter sighed. "I'll have to give you some more spanking now. You realize that, right?"

"Seriously? If you spank me any more today, I won't be able to sit down for a week."

"It won't be that bad. Go get the paddle."

Neal shuffled over to the coffee table, where the dreaded paddle was still sitting. He picked it up and handed it to Peter, who sat on one of the dining room chairs and beckoned Neal over.

Neal reluctantly draped himself over Peter's lap, and let Peter wrap an arm securely around his waist.

Peter tapped his bottom with the paddle a couple times, making him squirm.

"Do you understand why you're being spanked some more?"

"Because I left the corner. But Peter, come on, what was the point? You weren't even here."

"And? Should I have to stick around and babysit you while you serve out your punishment? I'm not doing this for my sake. I'm doing it because you need discipline. You can do better than this, Neal. You're not a child who has no self-control."

When Peter put it that way, it was hard not to feel bad. He _could_ have waited it out, if he'd tried. He'd known he'd be spanked if he got caught, but he did it anyway. Just like with the Ferrari.

He was jarred from his reverie when Peter brought the paddle down hard on his already sore ass. Neal yelped before he could stop himself.

The paddle was so much worse on tender skin, and Peter focused the spanks on his sit spots, where he would feel it the most.

Finally, it was done. Peter set the paddle aside and rubbed Neal's bottom with his palm, soothing away the worst of the sting. It always embarrassed Neal a little when Peter did this, but it made him feel better all the same.

When Peter let him up, Neal asked, "Do I have to go back in the corner?"

"No, I think you've had enough lessons in self-control today. You can pull up your pants."

As Neal was zipping his pants, he said, "And dinner? Am I still invited?"

"Of course you're invited. El won't stand for you not to be there. You might have to sit on a pillow, though."

Neal could live with that.


End file.
